


Going Home

by orphan_account



Series: Bad Things Happen 1.0 [16]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Sweetheart, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Body Horror, Corpses, Dead People, Demonic Possession, Developing Relationship, Ghosts, Graphic Description of Corpses, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It/Its Pronouns for Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, M/M, Morally Neutral Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Possession, Sympathetic Sides (Sanders Sides), Threats of Violence, but only one threat, but they dont actually die so it's ok, look at these cute gays, look at these oblivious idiots, might write sequels idk, they arent quite dating yet in this one but ?? eventually the romance happens, this one. this one is our favorite, u'll have to yell at us to write more, what a couple'a disasters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26733496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Why do you keep coming back?Virgil sits down on the floor of the dilapidated shed, hands folded in his lap. “I don’t know,” he says, “you tell me.”
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders
Series: Bad Things Happen 1.0 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928308
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Going Home

**_Why do you keep coming back?_ **

Virgil sits down on the floor of the dilapidated shed, hands folded in his lap. “I don’t know,” he says, “you tell me.”

He meets the eyes of the skeletal figure in front of him, violet staring into vibrant green. Its rotten skin stretched around a thin, awkward smile, tentacles jutting out of its thin form and writhing in the air. Tattered clothes seemingly from another time entirely hang on its sunken form, torn beyond repair.

The sight is enough to disturb just about anyone. Honestly, it used to disturb _him_ , too, but anymore, it’s just the way things are. It’s just the way Remus looks.

A low, guttural sound escapes it, enough to send shivers down his spine but not enough to scare him off.

 ** _I think you’re being stupid_** , Remus responds, a touch of amusement in its voice.

Virgil picks at his nails, “Oh? How so?”

**_You think that you can save me—that you can be the “hero” of my story._ **

Virgil falters, thinking it over.

**_I’m right._ **

“No,” Virgil hums, shaking his head. “No, not quite. But it’s a good guess—really, A for effort.”

**_Don’t patronize me. I can skin you and leave your bones out for the crows if I felt tickled enough to._ **

“I know. I _know_ what you could do to me, Remus—I’m not _naïve_ , Jesus.” Virgil leans back, gaze raised to the ceiling. Little drops of water drip from a crack in the wood, trickling onto the dirt floor next to him. “Do you _really_ think I would talk to a talking possessed corpse and think ‘well, this seems harmless. Absolutely no harm could possibly come out of this?’”

Another deep-throated sound, this time resembling more of a growl than a groan.

**_Then why are you_ ** **here _? Why do you keep coming back, knowing I could kill you?_**

Virgil pauses. Thinks it over.

Then, messing with his sleeve, he says, shrugging his shoulders, “I guess I like the company. You’re better than any living person I’ve been around, so I figured, why not? If I’m gonna die, at least it’ll be after I’ve made a friend.”

The ghost falls silent.

“…or whatever. I guess it _is_ a little stupid, now that I’ve said it—”

**_You’re my friend?_ **

Virgil startles, looking at it with furrowed eyebrows. “What?”

**_You see me as your friend?_ **

Virgil feels as though he’s been kicked in the chest. Face tinted pink, he looks away, fidgeting with his sleeve more than before, “I—I mean, yeah, of course. If that’s okay with you?”

It croaks, its tentacles squirming, stretching outward. The green glow of its eyes flickers for a moment before returning full force, its gaze snapping to stare at him. Virgil can’t help but flinch from how intense its stare is.

 ** _Sure_** , it says. **_On one condition_**.

Virgil swallows, paling a little, “Yeah?”

A breath. Whispers fill his ears, little chatter in the back of his mind that refuses to leave him.

Its next words steal the warmth from him and leave him at a loss for words.

**_I want you to kill this form and take me home._ **

Hours later, Virgil leaves the shed, face tear-ridden and puffy. He sniffles, wiping at his face with his sleeve, his hands covered in a black, slimy substance mixed with puss. As he steps out, the shed crumbles behind him, over a century of pain and misery finally escaping it and allowing it to let go at last.

Mismatched violet-and-green eyes look around at the many trees that surround the abandoned shed, the tension in his shoulders melting away at the sight. Slowly, he starts walking along the path leading to his home, wrapping his arms around him and sighing.

He can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips.

 _Finally_ , he thinks, _it’s over._

**_I’m free._ **

Now, all ~~it~~ has to do is get home…


End file.
